Sunday, May 1, 2011

for Saturday, April 30, 2011



Whirl down the days fire and ice,
Green growing or hard winter ground.
Here we are now and time trips on,
clockwork moving us along to where we will be
looking back and remembering.   
Everything seems harder now, more
difficult to do, except for us still together.  Me and you.  And
there is still the place where your neck and jaw
join for me to kiss goodnight,
still your curly pony tail for me to tie,
the mustache and beard that scratch
when you kiss me.  So long a time,
and so short—yesterday we met
under the tree they since took down
for diseases of its heart, the squirrels
scattered to other trees to throw nuts
on other people. They’ll turn into lovers too.
Maybe we will walk there when we’re older,
hobbling along to feed new squirrels
who will torment new students—
we’ll go feed the future
together.



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